


I'm Sorry

by RichardGraysonPercyJackson



Series: I'm Sorry [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Character Death, Depressing, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, let me know if I need more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 18:51:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18146060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardGraysonPercyJackson/pseuds/RichardGraysonPercyJackson
Summary: I'm Sorry...*PLEASE READ THE TAGS!!!*





	1. Goodbye

Dick ran through his checklist as he drove down the highway towards Gotham Memorial Bridge. He glanced at the clock. It would be three AM when he arrived. Perfect timing. No one would be around to stop him.

No witnesses.

He shook his head as he began mentally ticking through his list.

All his food was cleared out? Check.

He’d said goodbye to Bruce, Damian, Alfred, Jason, and Tim before he left the manor? Check.

Apartment bills were paid for the next month? Check.

As he reached a stoplight, Dick reached into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper with his address on it. He’d laminated the paper so it would be waterproof and first responders would still be able to read it.

Letting out a quiet breath, hands shaking, Dick kept going as the light turned green.

Suicide note was out where anyone could find it in the apartment? Check.

Everyone’s personalized, labeled envelope sat on the coffee table? Check.

All trackers in his car and clothing had been accounted for and destroyed? Dick hesitated before shaking his head. No. Check. It was check. There weren’t any trackers.

_ Why are you so scared?  _ He asked himself as his shaking picked up a notch.  _ You’ve been cutting yourself for years, you’ve been starving yourself for months. You’ve been preparing for this since the day your parents fell. _

Dick flicked his gaze to his exposed forearms, littered with cuts and scars, all from his own self harm. How Bruce Wayne, master detective had never noticed was beyond the acrobat though he was thankful for it now.

He’d chosen to wear shortsleeves. Let whoever found him know he’d been a lost cause for a long time, just so they didn’t think he’d been killed. He didn’t want anyone to waste any time over him when he’d just jumped off willingly.

He hadn’t been pushed. It was suicide, not homicide. No one needed to lose sleep over him, trying to catch a killer that was already dead.

Dick let out a quiet sob, biting his lip as the bridge came into view. He forced himself to calm down by mentally going over the suicide methods he’d been researching for the last year, along with the reason he couldn’t go through with some of them.

He’d put that in his suicide note too. At least, he was pretty sure he had.

Shooting himself in the head? Too loud.

Slitting his throat? Too hard.

Slitting his wrists? Too messy.

Hanging? Too long.

Poisoning? Too big of a risk of someone coming in time.

Overdose? Same reason as poisoning.

Which left jumping and subsequently  _ falling  _ as Dick’s only option. He shivered. As soon as he’d noted it, he knew there was no other option. It had to be falling. It was practically written in his blood from the moment his parents had hit the ground.

Once he’d chosen that as his method of death, he’d needed to decide where.

The very first place he’d thought of was the same place his parents fell. But he didn’t want to taint their memorial site with his soiled blood.

It had to be at night where there were fewer witnesses which meant it couldn’t be from a rooftop because Bruce would get there and Bruce would  _ stop  _ him. Dick tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. He’d come too far for Bruce to stop him now.

Letting out a quiet breath, Dick felt every emotion fade into numbing calm as he pulled over on the bridge and stepped out. The night was cold and he could already hear the waves of the bay sloshing and racing beneath the bridge.

He’d planned everything. Why just do one suicide method when he could use three? He was going to swallow back three sleeping pills, slit his wrists, and jump. So then it wouldn’t matter how soon someone got there. He could guarantee he’d be dead before they could save him.

His stomach growled angrily. Which reminded him he hadn’t eaten in several days.

_ Good. The pills will take effect faster.  _ Dick thought to himself as he popped the pill bottle open, dry swallowing three pills before tucking it away and climbing up on the side of the bridge. No one was around. No witnesses.

He was alone. Just as he’d always been.

The wind was forceful and Dick wondered how far the current would carry his corpse before it washed up on shore. For just a second, he felt a lick of sadness but it was stamped down by the ever growing numbness.

Dick had felt numb for a long time.

Dick ran through another list, gripping the side of the bridge. He wasn’t stalling. He  _ wasn’t _ . He just had to make sure everything was in place.

Which personalized goodbye letters were on the coffee table?

Damian? Check. Not that he’d read it. He’d always said Dick was a freak. He’d be glad Dick was gone. 

Tim? Check. Dick didn’t know how Tim felt about him but Tim seemed to be following the same path as Bruce. Likely, he rarely ever noticed Dick was there.

Jason? Check. Jason had always despised Dick, even before he’d died. When he came back, it was like that anger had been amplified. Once he’d threatened to kill Dick but, in the end, only shot him in the leg. Pity. He’d gotten Dick’s hopes up then.

Alfred? Check. Alfred hadn’t liked Dick’s flips and tricks all over the manor in the beginning. From the stairs, to the bannister, to the chandelier. The older man had lectured him time and time again. He’d be glad Dick was gone.

Bruce? Check. He’d fired Dick so Dick doubted he’d even been wanted by the man in the first place. The press had been right. Dick had just been some freakshow charity case all along. Bruce had better kids now. All far better behaved than Dick had ever been.

The last letter...the last letter Dick had hesitated to write and really, he didn’t even know if anyone would deliver it. The dead are dead. Why honor their wishes? Still, it had been worth a shot. Check, he told himself. It was written. It was left with the others. What happened to it after Dick died was no longer Dick’s problem.

Dick took a long, quiet sigh, closing his eyes and breathing in the air before reaching into his pocket to feel for the laminated paper. It was still there, as it had been when he’d checked several minutes earlier.

Opening his eyes, Dick reached into his other pocket. Once he slit his wrists, he only had a limited amount of time to throw himself off the bridge before the bloodloss did it for him and he wanted to do it himself. To prove to himself that he wasn’t a coward. Glancing around one final time, Dick pulled out a small knife and held it to his wrists.

He slit quickly and deeply, dropping the knife into the water below and counting the seconds before blood loss took over.

He gazed up at the sky as he whispered his final, “goodbye”.

Before dropping into the waves below.


	2. The Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick's Notes

**Damian.**

_ You were right. I’m too stupid. Too reckless. Too immature. I’m childish and I don’t take anything seriously. I disrespected your wishes on more than one occasion by hugging you and calling you a name I knew you despised. _

_ I’m sorry.  _

_ Do with my things what you wish. I don’t need them anymore. My suit is hidden under a loose floorboard under my bed. I figure you’d want to burn it in celebration of my passing. _

_ Sorry I didn’t tell you. I bet you wish you could have watched. It wasn’t exciting, not really. Just a fall and you’ve seen me do that plenty of times. _

_ Goodbye Damian. _

  
  


Alone in his room with no one to see, Damian placed a hand over his eyes as tears slipped out.

“Richard you idiot,” he whispered. He bit his lip when a sob threatened to slip out. Later that day, he would make his way to Dick’s apartment to retrieve Nightwing’s suit so Bruce could create a memorial in the cave for it, right next to Jason’s.

  
.........

 

**Tim.**

_ Your letter is short. Not the shortest but not the longest. I don’t know how you feel about me but I doubt you ever noticed I was there, as engrossed as you are in your technology and all the stuff you always said I wouldn’t understand. _

_ I would have. If you’d asked. But I understand. I’m not the smartest in the family. You are. And if my words mean anything, then know that I’m proud of all that you’ve achieved. I’m proud to have called myself your brother, even if you only saw me as an irritation. _

_ Don’t hesitate to apply to a good college. You’ll get in. You’re a genius. _

_ Goodbye Tim. _

 

Tim kept his head held high, refusing to look at anyone but the coffin before him. The open coffin. When he approached after the service, before the coffin was closed and moved to the hearse to be transported to the gravesite, Tim walked over and gazed down at the lifeless form inside.

“You taught me so much,” Tim whispered. “I’m so sorry I never saw the signs.”

  
.........

 

**Jason.**

_ It was my fault that you died. And my fault that you hated me. I was never around and when I was, all I did was fight with Bruce before storming out.  _

_ I hated you for a time, probably as much as you hated me. I saw you as my replacement, just as you saw, and maybe still see, Tim. _

_ I almost asked you what it was like. Death. Dying. But I figured you would be less than pleased if I even tried to relate to you. So I didn’t. Guess I’ve got a surprise coming my way, don’t I? _

_ You have every right to hate me. I didn’t do what I should have with you. I shouldn’t have ignored you, pushed you away. But I did and that was a mistake. _

_ I wish I could undo it, but I can’t. You died and when you came back, you wanted me dead. _

_ There’s no resurrection for me like there was for you. I’m dead now and giving you want you’ve always wanted. _

_ Goodbye Jason. _

 

“Goddamnit, Dick,” Jason hissed as he sat alone in his safehouse, tears pouring down his face. “I never hated you, I…” Jason balled the note up and threw it as far away as he could. “I’ll bring you back,” he whispered. “Talia owes me. I’ll bring you back. I promise.”

  
..........

 

**Alfred.**

 

_ Hopefully Bruce doesn't take in anymore kids who flip off of stuff. I know how much you hated when I did it.  _

_ I want to apologize. In the circus, it was normal. To flip off of boxes and stands and, well, people. _

_ You hated it and I didn’t respect that. I’m sorry. I was wild and I didn’t listen. Couldn’t understand how to sit down, stay still, and stay silent. _

_ Well Alfred now I’m down, still, and silent.  _

_ Hopefully the manor will be too. _

_ I’m sorry for all the pain I caused and hopefully my death won’t bring anymore and will, instead, make everyone breathe a little easier. _

_ Goodbye Alfred. _

 

Alfred placed a hand over his mouth, holding the letter tightly in his hand as he held back tears.

“My dear boy,” he whispered. “I never hated it. I was just unused to it. You were so unlike Master Bruce, it took time for me to understand that. I’m sorry there was no clear communication. Oh Master Richard.”

  
.........

 

**Bruce**

_ You were right. I am a failure. And everyone else was right. I’m just a circus freak. I didn’t deserve to be taken in by you. It was an honor I took for granted. You should have gotten rid of me when you had the chance. _

_ I’m sorry I was such a disappointment that you had to- _

 

Bruce stood before the fire burning in the hearth of his study, watching the letter crumble into nothing. His face remained impassive even as he spoke.

“He’ll fight.”

“I know.”

“He’ll wish he had stayed dead.”

“I  _ know _ ,” Jason said firmly. He glanced at the burning letter. “Did you read it?”

“I read enough,” Bruce replied.

“Are you really letting me do this?” Jason asked, frowning. “You’re seriously letting me put Dick into the Lazarus Pit?”

“Any other time, I wouldn’t,” Bruce replied as he glanced back at Jason. “But I have a feeling you’ll bring him back either way.”

“Damn right,” Jason confirmed.

Bruce looked back at the letter and said nothing. Jason gazed at it as well, something catching his eye.

Everyone’s letter had ended with their name. Goodbye and their name.

Not Bruce’s.

 

_ Goodbye Mr. Wayne. _

  
..........

 

A smile graced the figure’s face as he looked over the letter.

 

_ When you snapped those wires that night, June 25th twenty years ago, you forgot one of us. Two fell but there was a third. _

_ Me. _

_ Don’t worry about it. I finished what you started. _

_ Goodbye Zucco. _

_ The Last Flying Grayson _

 

 

**End**


End file.
